


The Ancient and Most Noble House

by deliciously_devient



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Dragon!Hanzo, Fae AU, M/M, Minor Character Death, none Of our faves tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 13:00:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciously_devient/pseuds/deliciously_devient
Summary: Highlord Shimada Hanzo loathes most of the other nobility of the court; they are vapid, judgmental and generally too stuck up and involved in their own affairs to interest him. He’d much rather stay at home with his garden.A newcomer in the Court might just change his mind, however.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84





	The Ancient and Most Noble House

The ballroom is humid almost to the point of being unbearable, and Hanzo is checking the grandfather clock every five minutes so that he can know when enough time has passed to make a polite exit. He so loathes these events, mingling with other Lords and Ladies and Ladrons of the courts, and the silks of his  _ montsuki hakama  _ are hot and heavy. 

Already he has rebuffed Lady Ashe twice from her incessant come-ons; she seems to refuse to acknowledge that he is gay, and he is growing increasingly irate with her. If her mother were not so close to his own, he would have killed her years ago. 

He might very well have killed half the people in this room for their annoyances if it were not for the extraordinarily long lives they all possessed. 

“Lord Hanzo,” a deep, purring voice to his left says. “You look divine this evening. Blue is such a lovely color against your skin.”

Hanzo turns slowly and nods his head at the tall lord who had invaded his space. “Lord Ogundimu,” Hanzo replies, somewhat stiffly. “You presume much, to address me so. One might even mistake your presumption for an insult.”

“Ah, forgive me my transgressions, my lord,” Ogundimu says, bowing deeply in apology, his eyes glittering as he gazes down at the dragon. “Wistfulness and want have made my tongue loose in my desperation to know you.”

Hanzo barely represses a snort at the overly saccharine apology, but he is spared having to answer by a commotion near the doors. There is shouting, and when he turns to look, a well-dressed man in bright red is forcing his way in. He is in Western dress, a finely made suit with black bottoms and a blood-red overcoat, long hair pulled into a severe ponytail. His beard by contrast is messy, barely contained, and Hanzo’s keen eyes can make out the slight scar on one side of his mouth, the chipped front tooth and the golden flecks in his brown eyes. 

He is handsome, Hanzo decides, in a decidedly rough-and-tumble way. 

“Lord Akande Ogundimu,” the stranger shouts, eyes zeroing in on the man still beside Hanzo. “I have come to challenge you Eridari.”

A gasp goes through the crowd, and Hanzo’s eyebrows jump up to his hairline. He looks around for his brother, who would surely love to see such drama going down, and sees him near the Holy Lord Tekhartha, his eyes already focused on the newcomer. 

Hanzo turns his eyes back to Lord Ogundimu, who has drawn his expression up into a haughty sneer, gazing down his nose at the man as if he were common scum even as the man in red stalks closed. Hanzo chooses that moment to subtly draw away; however this fight might end he does not want blood on his dress clothes. 

“And who are  _ you  _ to challenge  _ me _ ?” Lord Ogundimu sneers, and the man stops a good few feet from the avatar. His expression is twisted in anger, and his bright eyes glitter with hatred. 

“I am Highlord Jesse McCree,” he asserts, and Hanzo frowns as a murmur goes through the crowd. He is well versed in the Highlords, and does not recognize the name. “I am heir apparent of House Reyes.”

Another, louder murmur goes through crowd, and Hanzo’s eyes zoom in on the small house crest sewn into the man’s lapel; it is, in fact, the skeletal face of a crow, the sigil of House Reyes, and he slowly creeps towards his brother. No one from House Reyes has been seen in public in over three hundred years, at least not since Lord Reyes and Lord Morrison’s very public divorce. 

Lord Ogundimu’s sneer morphs into something else, considering. His beady eyes narrow as he takes in the shorter man. He is broad, muscled under his finery, his eyes a human brown. There is no definable scent to be had coming from him, no pulsing aura of power under his skin. Were it not for the place they were, Hanzo himself might suppose the man was entirely human. 

“Very well,” Lord Ogundimu rumbles, a wicked smile gracing his mouth. “Highlord Reyes’ estate will complement my holdings nicely. As the challenged, my weapon of choice is fists.”

The man -Highlord McCree, Hanzo corrects in his mind- does not rise to the bait, merely nodding. “We will step outside, then. I would not want to get your blood on these lovely tiles here.”

Lord Ogundimu snarls at the insult, but Lord McCree has already turned his back -another insult- and is making his way out into the garden. Hanzo finally reaches his brothers side, and they exchange looks. Holy Lord Tekhartha looks on with amusement as they follow the crowd going to the gardens, forming a loose circle around the combatants. 

Lady LaCroix, resplendent in a white evening gown, stands between the two men. Lord Ogundimu has removed his suit top, revealing his muscled chest. A brief thrill of admiration runs through Hanzo, and not for the first time he thinks a dalliance with Ogundimu wouldn’t be so bad, if only he would keep his mouth shut. 

Highlord McCree has also removed his suit shirt, as well as his boots, which seems strange to Hanzo. His chest is muscled, defined nicely and covered with a generous amount of hair. Across his back are a myriad of scars, set in silver. Some appear to be burns, while others could be mistaken for whip marks. Hanzo is intrigued, to say the least; so few among them allow any imperfections to be noticed, let alone displayed, and he finds the urge to run his tongue along those deep set scars unusual. 

“Since you must engage in such activity, I will remind you an Eridari challenge will be the end of your life,” Lady LaCroix says, nose tilted up in distaste. “The loser forfeits all lands and titles they own, and the winner will be paying for the damages to my property.”

With that, she joins the crowd, and if not for the centuries he had known her, he would think she was entirely disgusted with the affair. 

Ogundimu and McCree circle each other a moment; Hanzo mourns the fact that he had not been able to meet this man before; perhaps sampled those scars before Ogundimu inevitably destroys him. 

It’s over in a moment; tired with the circling, Ogundimu strikes, imbuing his fist with the power of the Sun; McCree’s body goes flying, striking a fountain and crumpled. There is no blood, but the angle of his spine and limbs and the power of the strike itself leave little doubt of what had happened. Ogundimu has been challenged thusly before, and while some fights have been longer, they have all ended the same. As an Avatar of the Sun, he is nearly unbeatable; Hanzo himself would not fight Ogundimu in a one on one battle despite his assurance of his own power. 

The crowd is on the verge of dispersing when McCree’s body moves; Hanzo freezes in horror as the sound of bones setting themselves reach his sensitive ears, and he watches as McCree stands, body rearranging itself to stand straight. His eyes are narrowed, mouth twisted in a grin as Ogundimu stares, slack-jawed. 

“Is that all you’ve got, then?” McCree taunts, hands coming up in front of him, palms open and fingers splayed. “Ain’t much. Way Gabe talked you up, I was expecting more.”

He strikes before Ogundimu can reply, moving so quickly Hanzo cannot track the movement, sending the Avatar flying. He does not have the chance to land before McCree is striking him down in the middle of his arc, the stonework cracking around Ogundimu’s body. The crowd gasps as the avatar struggles to his knees; he is bleeding, in several places, gasping for breath desperately and Hanzo watches in astonishment as McCree advances, grabbing Ogundimu’s skull between both hands. 

“Did you think Lord Reyes wouldn’t find out what you did?” McCree snarls, loud; he is saying it for the crowd, Hanzo realizes. “Did you think your efforts to rend apart the most powerful houses in the lands would go unpunished?”

Ogundimu gasps something unintelligible; McCree snorts, and in one fluid, powerful motion, rips the avatar’s head from his shoulders. 

A gasp goes through the crowd, some people physically recoiling from it, but Hanzo’s eyes are locked on Lord McCree. He dips his fingers in the bright orange blood of the fallen Avatar, licking it slowly off his digits as if savoring the flavor. His eyes, muted brown, flash brilliant scarlet once, and Hanzo feels a shudder of desire go through him.

McCree kicks Ogundimu’s body to the ground carelessly, taking the handkerchief offered by Lord LaCroix with a nod and wiping himself off. Behind Hanzo, his brother passed Holy Lord Tekhartha a few gold coins, the monk hiding a smirk behind his hand. 

Hanzo carefully scents the air, moving just a bit closer to Lord McCree in order to get a better read on him. Despite the display he just witnessed, however, the only scent he can catch is entirely  _ human,  _ the scent of pine and tobacco clinging to the man. Curiosity crawls up Hanzo’s spine and digs in, and he knows he has found a new obsession. 

He is not dull, however; the other nobility are surrounding Lord McCree already to congratulate him. If he introduces himself now, he will not be remembered and that...that is not acceptable. 

Hanzo makes his excuses to his brother, and to Lady LaCroix, and makes his exit. His manservant, Tanaka, is waiting with the others, quiet and reserved as ever. 

“Tanaka,” Hanzo says as they are in their carriage, headed back to Shimada castle and well away from prying ears. “Make an overture of friendship to House Reyes. Let them know I would like to host the family for a dinner, and give blessing to their new Heir Apparent.”

If Tanaka is surprised by the request, his face does not show it. “Of course, my lord,” he says, and if Hanzo didn’t know better he would swear the old dragon was smirking. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> A few notes about this au! It’s not fully developed yet, but there are a few levels the nobility. There is, at the top, the King and Queen, and then the Princes and Princesses. Under them are the Highlords/Ladies/Ladrons. The “High” status is determined by how much land they own/if they fought in the war for the Crown. Below them are normal Lords/ladies/ladrons, who control less land and were often born after the war when the fae fled the mortal planes. Below them are Barons/Baroness’, then Dukes/Duchess and then Sirs and Knights etc and that’s the end of the nobility. 
> 
> There are of course wealthy merchants and such, but they don’t have titles or lands, and then the artisans and common folk. 
> 
> Everyone in this au is technically a Fae, in that they are a supernatural creature and therefore immortal. Way back when they were driven out of the Mortal planes of existence and now live in their own dimension. If you’ve got any questions comment, or feel free to bother me on Twitter @thejackening


End file.
